Conversations II
by Isobel Morgan
Summary: Another AvonandCally piece, 3rd Season this time, following on from Sarcophagus.


**Conversations II  
**

Avon paused in the doorway of the rest room, mildly surprised at the sight of Cally sitting at the table, steadily drinking her way through the bottle in front of her, a grim expression on her face.

"I would expect that sort of thing from Vila," he told her. "But not from you. What's the matter?"

"Did I say there was something the matter?" she replied, her tone hostile, her words bitter, but Avon sensed that this was not directed at him.

"This is not usual behaviour," he pointed out. "What brought this on?"

"Perhaps I just wanted to," she snapped back. "And anyway, you're hardly one to talk about 'usual behaviour' are you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean. You go out of your way to make sure that none of us know what you are up to. I've known you a long time Avon. Do you think we can't see?"

"If that is what you have to say," Avon replied tartly. "I shall leave you to it."

"No Avon, wait," she called after him as he turned to go. "I'm sorry I - I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Take what out on me?" he asked, sitting down on the other chair and pouring himself a glass from the bottle.

Cally grimaced.

"I've been having bad dreams."

"That's hardly surprising. With what we've all been through, bad dreams are to be expected."

"Yes, but these are exceptionally vivid. More so than usual."

"About what?" Avon asked, not really because he was interested but because he knew Cally wanted to talk about it. And if listening to her was what it took to stop her sitting in an empty room drinking herself insensible, then he would have to do it. Avon did not really consider himself to be a leader in the true sense, but he was aware that he was partly responsible for those who travelled with him, despite his reservations. To be honest, considering what had happened to Cally recently, he was glad he hadn't had to do much of this already.

"They're - confusing. Some are about Auron. But the others - I don't know. I think they may be after-effects from the alien from the sarcophagus."

Avon put down his glass, his senses alert.

"What do you mean? How is it affecting you?"

"I don't mean like that. Don't worry, I'm not about to be taken over by an alien. Again."

Cally downed the rest of the contents of her glass and refilled it.

"Sometimes I feel like I should put a sign up, pointing to my head: '_All aliens looking to invade the Universe start here._' It's not as if anyone ever warned me that that sort of thing could happen if I left home, but that makes it three now.

I mean, three aliens trying to take me over, to use me, putting me on like some item of clothing."

"Three?" Avon queried, trying to recall what she meant.

"Yes three. Four if you count the Thaarn, but that was different, he didn't try to control me. There was the sarcophagus alien trying to use my body to build one of its own. The one that was using Orac as a bridge to invade our dimension and thought it should try and drive me mad at the same time. And then there was the Lost."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten about the Lost."

"I wish I could," Cally replied bitterly.

"I thought you had?" Avon pointed out, remembering how she had had no idea of what she had done under the Lost's control.

"I did, yes. But I could feel that there was something left over inside my mind from when they were controlling me, so I tried to find it. I tried using some of the techniques I learned on Auron to explore my memory, but they didn't really work, so I asked Jenna for help."

"Jenna?" Avon repeated, not following.

"She was also used by them. As a mouthpiece, remember? She had no memory at first, but then she came to me complaining that she could also feel something wrong inside her mind. By working together, we managed to find the memories and to deal with them."

"So you remember everything now?"

"Not quite. Jenna and I found the memories, but they were more like they belonged to somebody else. Like remembering a dream, perhaps. I could recall the events, but there were no feelings attached to them. I remember setting the bomb... and then sabotaging the detector links you were working on."

"When I thought about it later, you had seemed - strange, when I spoke to you then," Avon told her.

"But you thought that was because I was an alien?" Cally asked with a smile. "I was surprised anyone noticed at all."

"It was Jenna who saw that you weren't yourself," Avon admitted. "I don't know how she knew. She just saidit wasn't you looking back at her."

"She was a great deal more perceptive than she accepted," Cally agreed. "Not in a telepathic sense, but she understood people."

"Do you miss her?" Avon found himself asking, surprising himself with the question.

"Sometimes. We had a strange relationship. There were times when she didn't seem to like me or trust me at all, and then there were the times when we were almost friends."

_Rather like you and me,_ she finished silently, wondering if Avon was thinking something similar. In truth, she doubted it.

"What else do you remember?" Avon prompted, pulling the conversation back to its origins, impatient to get to the point but not wanting to rush Cally in case she closed up on him and rendered all of this a waste of time.

Cally hesitated, trying to put how she felt into words.

"It's a feeling more than anything. Abstract, almost. Not like the others; they were more as if someone else was inside my head, talking to me. This was like being outside myself, watching what was happening and then coming back into it afterwards. They used me, took advantage of me and I felt..." Cally hesitated again.

"I felt violated. Helpless. I know I told Blake that it only happened because I was unprepared, but I don't know that I could have done anything if they had tried to take me over again, no matter how hard I tried."

Cally raised her eyes to meet Avon's, anger and hurt radiating out from her.

"I can't stand feeling like that. And since then there have been more and more who have tried to use me, and each time it took all my strength to fight them off."

"But you succeeded," Avon pointed out. "You are far from helpless."

"I know that," Cally snapped. "But how many more must I deal with? I am not the only telepath in this universe, despite Servalan's best efforts."

"And this is what you are dreaming about?" Avon asked, trying to trying to avoid letting the conversation move into that area.

"Partly."

Cally sighed heavily.

"As I said, they're confusing. Tiring. Sometimes it's as if I can still feel her, but I know they're just... echoes."

"Are you sure? The alien said that it couldn't die."

"Not human death," Cally corrected. "But an interim state. It can't reach me from that state without the power source, I know that. I felt it fade away. But it's like there are whispers in the back of my mind; not just her, but all of them, driving me mad."

Cally reached for the bottle again to fill her once-more empty glass but Avon grabbed her hand.

"Is that really helping?"

"Yes," Cally snapped. "It keeps things quieter when I sleep. If I can't have real peace of mind, this is the next best thing."

"Peace of mind?" Avon demanded. "Who has that?"

"It stops me from having to think about it," Cally threw back, trying to wrestle her hand back from Avon's iron grip, but he would not relent.

"It's hard enough trying to concentrate on dealing with the Federation without all this going on inside my head. I don't need to keep dreaming on top of everything else."

"I understand that," Avon told her.

"I don't think that you do," Cally snapped. "It's all very well for you, isn't it? You're always so in control of everything, even if you're not. Does anything ever get to you?"

Avon looked back at her, the expression in his eyes darkening and Cally realised what she'd just said. Of course some things got to him.

He hadn't opened up to her at all since he'd found out the truth about Anna, despite her best efforts, but even with a man as hidden as Avon she could see how it must have made him feel.

/ _I am sorry_ / she telepathed to him, an almost indetectable undertone to her spoken words.

"Don't worry, this is not a permanent solution. I will deal with this in time."

"As will we all," Avon added, surprising Cally. She noticed that he had not yet let go of her hand.

"I cannot promise that we will never again encounter an alien that will attack us, but I am confident that you will manage with anything else that comes your way as you have dealt with everything we have seen already."

Avon stood up, letting go of Cally's hand but still holding her eyes with his own.

"I am going to bed now. How you handle your bad dreams is your own concern."

Cally stood up as well, holding out her glass.

"A toast?" she offered, pouring a small amount into both her glass and Avon's.

Grudgingly, he took it and held it up against hers.

"What to?"

"What else?" Cally said, with a hint of a smile. "To freedom. Our freedom, and the freedom to think without having anyone else in your head."

"I believe that in this universe, that is an impossibility," Avon replied, but he drank to it anyway, then turned to go.

"Are you coming?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Cally put the glass back down on the table.

"Silly question."


End file.
